


Canis Canem Edit

by Foxlolpop



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andreil, Andreil Au, Bodyguard Andrew Minyard, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, Emperor Kengo, First Meetings, Holy Roman Empire, How Do I Tag, Human Trafficking, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I made Andrew and Kevin healthy (sort of), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, My First Fanfic, Neil is the Grand Duke's son, Pedophilia, Prince Kevin Day, Roman Myths, Royalty AU, Slow Burn, What Was I Thinking?, i hate this but all writers start out somewhere :'(, kevin is a history nerd, moriyamas have an actual empire now, past mention of Drake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:14:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26206258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxlolpop/pseuds/Foxlolpop
Summary: Nathaniel's coming back to The Empire after nine years. Nine years since his mother was "assassinated" and he was cast off to Germany. Nine years alone with his father's men. Nine years and the Raven War ended somewhere in between.A lot has changed in nine years: The Moriyama Empire is at peace with the Foxhole Republic, Ichirou is the Crowned Prince, and Kevin has a bodyguard who won't leave him alone.Nathaniel has never asked for much but he certainly has never asked to help expose The Empire's ghastly secrets. Didn't ask for this psychotic midget to protect him. Didn't ask to have anything to do with former enemies. Didn't ask to find someone who understood his pain. In fact, all Nathaniel has ever asked for is to stay alive and it seems he can't even have that.i.e. a royalty au and Andrew wears a cravat.
Relationships: Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 22
Kudos: 39





	Canis Canem Edit

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, yay! I'm using this as a means to get better at writing and also because the au wouldn't leave my brain. I dont really know how i feel about this except that I want to chuck this chapter out the window but i rewrote it a billiion times so no. 
> 
> I want to thank [hi-raethia](https://hi-raethia.tumblr.com/%5Bhi-raethia%5D) who inspired me to write this. She's amazing and a writing god. Everyone should do themselves a favor & check out her fics. 
> 
> All the "culture", mannerisms, and fashion piggy back off of the late Victorian era and early Edwardian era so 1880s-early 1900s. 
> 
> Canis canem edit directly translates to "dog eats dog" in latin but the phrase means "nobody is safe" or "every man for themself."  
> Alea iacta est is latin for "the die is cast". Basically just means something (usually a plan) is set into motion. 
> 
> No beta so all mistakes are my own. Umm but guys do i need a beta? How do I ask someone that? 
> 
> Enjoy!!

_"Life is bullshit”_

_-Shaun David Hutchingson, We Are the Ants_

“He’s been in Europe for the last nine years,” Kevin said gesturing to the portrait in front of them. Andrew looked up at the enormous painting with its thick gold-plated frame and briefly wondered how much it must have cost to have had it made during the war. Metals and minerals, especially first ranked ones, had been scarce because of the high demand for weaponry but he guessed they were _royals_. _Probably even got a discount_ , he thought bitterly. Andrew drew his eyes away from the frame and reminded himself to bother Kevin about the history of the royal family's expenditures later. 

The inquiry would make today slightly more amusing that’s for sure. 

Kevin had a hard-on for all of history’s adventures and scandals, but he hated the nitty gritty nonsense like studying how the Raven War affected The Empire’s economic growth and its influence on the imperial budget. He was more of an ancient history type of guy who only crawled out of the left side of the timeline if he felt the tensions of war all the way back with Caesar. Annoying him about the how much a stupid frame would’ve cost because of a mineral deficit induced by a worthless lackluster war while he was busy would surely get under his skin. 

And Andrew liked to follow by his rule of thumb that a fuming Kevin was always an entertaining Kevin. 

Andrew returned his focus to the portrait and the lovely little family displayed against the canvas. Tuning out Kevin’s nerdy rambling about the how the Wesninski line dated almost as far back as the Imperial Family’s and their unparalleled loyalty. Andrew had a feeling he should’ve been paying more attention to Kevin’s spiel, but he didn’t care. 

The painting was queued up along the wall with the other monarchs' portraits descending from oldest and most important to the youngest and less notable figureheads. This one hung, closer towards the King’s than even his own brother, was of the Grand Duke and Duchess of Baltimore and their son. 

Mother and father proudly standing behind their child. 

They looked as happy as anyone standing and smiling for an eternity while being painted looked. Stilted smiles and too stiff postures that would have seemed awkward if every other painting hadn’t looked the same. But there was something... off about them. 

Like the falsehood of _we’re a big ol’ happy family_ came too easily to them. It peaked through the smallest and slightest of tells only someone like Andrew could’ve noticed (someone whose remnants of a similar life still ran through them). Weaving in and out of the canvas’s linen sewing together its own narrative while ripping the old one away. 

Andrew saw it in Duchess’s tight lips, pulled too tersely that they must have been cracking (the pain keeping her present) and the Duke’s heavy calculating gaze (picking out prey and silencing the room). His arm painted too far to the left to be naturally hung by his side. Where he could have planted his hand on his son’s back for support or pinching him into stillness. A command to behave or to be prepared for the consequences of disobedience. In Andrew's experience the command, no matter if it was obeyed or not, always lead to unimaginable pain. It was like was using a cardboard box for shelter against a hurricane he knew was coming. 

Foolish to believe that just because one played along, did as they were told, that it would soften the blow. Pain was still received. Discipline, deserved or not, was delivered. Beat so far deep into your bones it clogs and replaces the pathways of happiness and pleasure. But the greater punishment, the real lesson learned is having to live with the knowledge that you willingly stepped into the lion’s den. That _you_ allowed this happen to yourself guided by _your own_ delusions. 

(Sometimes it seems there are consequences for solely existing) 

Breathe in... Breathe out... 

Andrew was past all of that now or at least in the process of putting it behind him. 

Betsy, one of the many psychiatrists offered to the Defense Unit, she had been helping him sort through it since he was a recruit. She told him about the dangers of bottling these types of emotions up (like he was _genuinely_ feeling anything. It was more so internal punches to the gut), so he’d talk about how the portrait made him _feel with her later._

Andrew directed his gaze to the little boy in between the Duke and Duchess. He couldn’t have been older than eight or seven with his soft features and big imploring blue eyes. He played the innocent little kid act well, but Andrew knew it was just that. An act. His auburn curls matched his father, just as red and fiery. They shared the same haunting blue too but not the underlying threat hidden in the Duke’s eyes. Still Andrew shifted his weight a little uneasily under their combined stare even if he knew it was just oil paint and hemp staring back. 

Andrew felt the _woosh_ of air before he saw the hand blurring past his face nearly slapping him. He took a step back to disguise his flinch, "hello! Are you even listening to me?” Kevin screeched waving a hand in Andrew’s face like a petulant child seeking attention. 

“Shhh you’re disturbing the paintings,” Andrew said putting his index to his lips and grabbing onto Kevin’s wrists yanking it down. Kevin rolled his eyes and wrenched his arm away glaring at his bodyguard. “You are a highly trained— _royally_ trained member of the Defense Unit. You are part of the Emperor’s Royal Guard and as an extension represent His Imperial Majesty. You need to know this stuff so when the Duke’s son comes back you don’t make The Empire look likes its run by a bunch of uneducated delinquents.” Kevin stared pointedly at Andrew during that last bit. Stressing the prestige of being royally anything even if all the title was attached to was _pain in the ass_ (Kevin was one of those). 

Andrew turned his bored stare to meet Kevin’s practically pleading one. “No, this place is run by a pack power-hungry fools and their mini-mes" Andrew took great delight in the face Kevin made when he said that. The perfect cross between a panic attack, cardiac arrest, and just the right amount of constipation sprinkled in. Very entertaining. 

Instantly Kevin’s eyes darted around the room searching for anybody who might’ve overheard them. Distress evident on his sharp features. Dark eyebrows scrunching up and the whole shebang. 

He wouldn’t find anyone. They were the only ones in the room. 

Andrew wasn’t stupid. He thought Kevin would have given him more credit than that. If Andrew cared what Kevin thought of him, he’d be hurt. 

Andrew guessed Kevin realized they were alone when the tension in his shoulders visibly released. “You can’t just say something like that!” he whisper-shouted and rubbed his neck, some type of self-soothing touch. Andrew rolled his eyes so hard his sockets hurt. 

Andrew might be part of the Royal Guard, the Imperial Family’s best and most trusted soldiers, but he wasn’t on a leash like Kevin. He refused to be, so he wasn’t. He supposed though that their situations were different. Kevin wouldn’t be alive if Tetsuji, the Emperor’s brother, hadn’t taken him in after his mother, the Viceroy, was killed. Kevin owed them and oh how he paid that debt dearly every time. Just a glance at his left hand could tell you that much. 

(Every so often, Andrew wondered if Kevin wished he had died with his mother all those years ago if he knew what kind of hell he’d had to survive in this place) 

((Andrew had in a different hell, in a different time)) 

The spider web of pale scars stretching across the back of Kevin’s hand reminded Kevin of who he was, where his place was. 

Kevin may be considered a prince because of who adopted him and the persona he displays to the public, but _he is not blood_. He was a favor. His life a privilege that could easily be taken away. 

The Imperial Family made that distinction _very clear._

Kevin’s fear was justifiable and its why Andrew accepted to be his bodyguard without kicking and screaming. But he didn’t do all of this for free, oh no. He bargained his own little deal with tall, dark, and frightened on the side. 

(Sometimes, he just wished Kevin would realize he couldn’t win against his demons with just a shield. He needed a sword, but Kevin couldn’t find one, find one in himself. Even if he did have one Andrew doubted Kevin would know how to use it without cutting himself.) 

_Gosh_ , he needed a cigarette now. _Fuck._

Andrew sighed and gave Kevin one of his flat stares: a silent fuck you just cause. Then he began to recite what Kevin had been blabbering about the Duke and his bullshit family to calm him down. 

The Wesiniskis has been part of the Perfect Court (the then King and now Emperor’s council of trusted advisors) for five generations. Around twenty years ago Nathan Wesiniski, the current Grand Duke, married Mary Hatford, the Duke of Callaghan’s daughter, who was from the UK. Their marriage helped strengthen relationships between The Empire and other prestigious families overseas and, surprise surprise, the rich got richer. 

Two years into the Raven War Lady Hatford was shot between the ribs during a public event. She died six hours later. It was rumored to be an assassination orchestrated by the opposing side of the war—the Foxhole Republic— however such rumors were never confirmed, not even after a treaty was negotiated. Her death sparked outrage and shock as the kingdom lost yet another beloved figurehead (the Viceroy, Kaleigh Day, before her; whose death catapulted into the Raven War). Because of Lady Hatford’s popularity, her death triggered the climax of the war. 

Nathaniel Wesiniski, the Duke’s son, was with the Duchess during the assassination. Some people have speculated on why Nathaniel didn’t die that day as well or why the Duke was absent from the family outing, but most theories have been laid to rest. After his mother’s assassination the Grand Duke privately announced to the Perfect Court that because of the possibility of another assassination and for his son’s emotional wellbeing he would be sending Nathaniel to a school in Germany. He would be accompanied by a Royal Governor, a Royal Nanny, and a member from the Royal Guard. 

There was no predetermined date for when Nathaniel would return but it was assumed that he would come home after the war. However, three years later when a treaty was signed, the Duke’s son didn’t come back. Nathan claimed that Nathaniel was too heavily invested in his studies in Europe at the time but would be returning to the Empire after his nineteenth birthday. 

Personally, Andrew believed the kid was too busy partying and had gotten into some shit. But Nathan seemed to keep a tight leash on his son if what everyone said about him was true (if the portrait indicated anything). 

Andrew tipped an imaginary hat to his eidetic memory and looked up to lock eyes with Kevin. Honeyed hazel boring into murky green. He raised an eyebrow in the form of a silent question: _satisfied?_ The _softer are you okay_ went unspoken between them but they both knew it was there no matter how much they’d deny it. 

Understanding, Kevin nodded a little flabbergasted by Andrew’s recall. Partly because he always seemed to forget about it and also because of the way Andrew had crassly reworded some of his little speech. 

With that Andrew spun on his heel and made his way to the gallery’s exit. 

He was going to take that cigarette now. 

Without looking back, he added “you are exhausting as hell.” Andrew heard Kevin suck his teeth at that accompanied by the quiet clacking of his oxfords against the marble floor, following without question. He caught up to his bodyguard in two simple strides. A feat Andrew’s five foot even ass would’ve had to accomplish in double the amount of time. Andrew’s lips twitched in place of a smirk as he sped up his pace to make the giant work for it. 

Some people had the balls to call out Andrew on his height. Asking how such a dwarf could protect the six-foot two fucker. That typically ended with the questionnaire pinned to the wall with a knife against their throat or on the ground clutching their stomach. 

Andrew’s skill and muscle mass picked up the slack where his genes had given up and if anyone wanted to know how much they could pick up he would gladly show them. 

Andrew opened the gallery door letting it swing behind him (he was Kevin’s bodyguard, not his footman) and strut out into the hallway. Kevin huffed indignantly at having to catch the door his footsteps immediately muffled by the red carpet as he excited. Andrew turned to the left and stalked down the wide hallway shoving a hand down his pant pocket to fish out his pack and lighter. 

Andrew didn’t want to smoke inside the smell of burning candle wax always mixed with the nicotine and gave him the opposite effect he was searching for. So he settled on tracing his fingers over the lighter’s ornate designs. A small promise of _soon_.

The windowless hall was lit by candles resting in their candelabras. The flames swishing back and forth as he and Kevin passed them. Mahogany tables carved with intricate patterns lined the walls a tapestry hung over one here and there. Some hand painted porcelain or a vase filled with flowers sitting on every other table top. 

The decor was a little too much for Andrew’s taste but he understood the appeal. 

Understood what message such finery was meant to convey. 

(He had been a message once. An ornament on a shelf that told you how much power and money someone possessed) 

((A luxury too)) 

Andrew watched as his and Kevin’s shadows bobbed up and down losing shape and coming back together again on the wall to distract himself. Until he turned another left and saw the windows leading down to the garden’s entrance. Heavy crimson drapes drawn back to illuminate the space with natural light. 

Andrew felt a tad less stuffy without realizing it and walked a little faster to reach the entrance. He waited by the French doors leading into the garden for Kevin to catch up. When he finally lugged his tall ass to Andrew he pushed open the doors and stepped outside. 

The change in temperature happened all at once. Chilly December air blowing into Andrew’s face and tousling his blond curls. Nipping at his skin and as goosebumps rose on his arms. He barely contained a shiver. 

Suddenly, Andrew’s velvet vest and long-sleeved shirt weren’t enough to combat the cold anymore. 

He waltzed his way to the courtyard a few paces in front of him. There in the middle was a fountain its wide pool had a couple of dead leaves swimming in it; bumping into each other and slowly drifting apart. A hypnotizing motion. 

In the center of the pool was a statue of Sol Invictus water cascading down his mouth in long streams. 

It was a religious title applied to a few deities during the later Roman Empire. Bestowed upon Sol, the sun god, who rose to the position of the supreme god of Rome around the fourth century. 

Sol Invictus means “the Unconquered Sun.” Fitting for the world’s most powerful empire. 

The empire on which the sun never sets as they say. 

Andrew sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face. He blamed the random trivia on Kevin and his incessant blabbering. 

_Great I’m turning into a nerd_

Andrew sat on the edge of the fountain facing the French doors and loosened his cravat. Throwing his pack and lighter onto his lap he chucked out a cigarette and lit the end. Andrew closed his eyes as he took the first drag. His shoulders slumped and as he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees, looking down. 

Andrew heard the door latch as Kevin approached, tentative footsteps. Kevin knew not to disturb Andrew when he was smoking but he still wanted to talk it seemed. 

_He’s been in Europe for the last nine years_

“So, he was ten when his mommy died and shipped to Germany so he could cry” Andrew stated. Not a question just confirmation. 

Kevin sighed at Andrew’s oversimplification, “It’s complicated.” 

Andrew focused his gaze on Kevin’s oxfords staring up at him. Chocolate brown against the garden’s stony path. 

Andrew had never met The Grand Duke. The monarch stayed holed up in his estate for the most part only coming out for meetings with the Perfect Court and other important events. 

To be honest, Andrew didn’t know if the guy was just a hermit or up to no good, but it wasn’t his problem. 

Kevin had met him before though. Before Andrew. 

From what he could tell by Kevin’s anxious behavior over the last couple of weeks the Grand Duke probably lived up to his title in more ways than one. 

His close relationship to the Emperor must’ve contributed to Kevin’s unease too. 

It was up to the Perfect Court whether Kevin kept his place in the hierarchy or not. If someone with as much leeway in Court as the Grand Duke found him displeasing or afflicting Kevin would be kicked off his pedestal. 

Andrew sighed internally. No, the Duke wasn't a problem for _him_ , but he could pose a problem for Kevin. 

If Andrew remembered correctly Nathaniel’s birthday was January, the nineteenth. Six weeks away. 

So, six weeks to prissy up and learn all he needed to know about the Grand Duke’s son. Not a terrible deadline; Kevin had given him worse before. 

He lifted his elbows and leaned back crossing his ankles so he wouldn’t fall over into the fountain and locked eyes with Kevin. He took another drag from his cigarette holding it in and imaging the ache in his lungs burning holes into his chest. It certainly felt like that was what the nicotine was doing. 

Andrew exhaled in Kevin’s face. The smoke curling around his nose and cheekbones as he wheezed and grimaced. 

Kevin didn’t understand how he never found Andrew coughing up a lung with all the toxins he inhaled. A mystery unto itself really. 

When Andrew’s eyes met Kevin’s again he said, “okay. Just remember our deal.” 

Kevin nodded solemnly his eyebrows scrunching up again. 

(He was going to get wrinkles if he kept doing that) 

_Okay... Six weeks._

Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too mind-numbing. 

(The questions forming in his head about the Duke's son assured him that it wouldn't be)

**Author's Note:**

> Half of me wants to burn this and the other wants to run it over with a semi.  
> I hope you enjoyed this and i dont know what else to say... have a great day :)  
> Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated <3 
> 
> Some things to address:
> 
> -I realize this may look like kandrew or kandreil but its not, sorry. Theres a reason why Kev and Andrew are so close in this au and it will reveal itself later on  
> -all the chapter titles will be cool latin phrases. I'll translate them in the notes.  
> -The tags are scary so I'll be putting tws in the notes when things start getting darker. You're absolutely welcome to message me on tumblr (@foxlolpop) if you want to talk about the tws or what will go on in that chapter :)  
> -I'm very lonely so please come talk to me on my tumblr. You could just send me your grocery list and I would be estatic.


End file.
